


Before the World was Made

by blacktail_chorus



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Happy, M/M, Magic Reveal, Post-S1, Snark, TW: Blood, tw: animal death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 16:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10415799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktail_chorus/pseuds/blacktail_chorus
Summary: Just another magic reveal story. Arthur and Merlin are out riding on a lark when suddenly, Arthur's horse trips...Featuring a cheeky Gaius, a snarky Merlin, and Arthur painting himself into a corner.





	

"No!"

Merlin's cry escaped him as his magic reflexively extended to freeze the scene playing out before his eyes. Arthur's mare had caught her forefoot in a gopher hole mid-gallop and her body twisted unnaturally, about to collapse on the ground. Arthur himself had kept his seat a moment too long and was poised to fall with her. She would land on him, smashing him against the low rock just off to the side.

The mare's leg had snapped and bent at a jarring angle. If the fall continued, Arthur's bones would be broken too--crushed--and his head smacked against unforgiving bluestone.

Merlin's heart beat wildly as he urged his own horse forward and raised his right hand. He would have to throw Arthur wide of the danger. A flick of his wrist set the bodies in motion once more, but he _pulled_ Arthur from his seat and sent him tumbling to the side. They landed with a sick thud, one-two, and the mare began to scream. Merlin dismounted and ran.

"Arthur!" he called, choking on the name. The prince lay crumpled and still. He had not cried out once, though blessedly he still breathed. Merlin knelt and grabbed his shoulders, then felt around his head for bumps or cuts.

Nothing. Merlin sat back and looked around. Still nothing--no blood, no rocks, no twisted limbs or broken bones. Just a bit of mud here, caking Merlin's knees and dirtying Arthur's hair.

"Arthur," he tried again, shaking his shoulder. Still no response. A dread weight settled in Merlin's gut and he drew a sharp breath. "Oh gods," he groaned.

Beyond them, the mare let out shrill wails and writhed on the ground. She was done for. The leg had a bad break and she'd cut herself with her own feet struggling to get up. Sweat darkened her neck and blood ran in the grass. This far from Camelot, there was no hope. Merlin clutched Arthur's shoulder and let out a low breath. He closed his eyes and reached out to find her heart, stopping its motions just as he'd paused their fall moments before. The mare soon fell silent and still.

"Oh gods," he said again, feeling broken. He turned to find his own mount. Though obediently ground-tied, the stout horse's ears lay flat against his head and he pawed at the earth in agitation. 

Merlin rose and moved to take his head. "Hey, hey," he called gently. "You're ok, big fellow, you're ok. I just put her to sleep. You're ok. You're ok." He stroked the dark muzzle until the horse's ears went gentle and he released a whuffing breath.

"We've got to get Arthur home, all right?" he said to the horse, giving him a final pat. He looked down at Arthur, still a rag doll on the ground. Time for more magic, then--Merlin swung up into his saddle and _lifted_ Arthur into the air with a wave of his arm and a flash of gold in his eyes. He brought Arthur to rest in the seat in front of him and grabbed him about the middle, settling the weight of his head and body back against his own.

"You are not dying on me, you prat," he whispered into Arthur's ear. "I didn't save you from Nimueh's nonsense just to lose you in a patch of mud. You're _not_ allowed to die." He passed his lips over Arthur's temple and sniffed back the lump forming in his throat. Then he coughed and lifted his head.

"Hyah!" he shouted, toeing his horse and turning him to race home (carefully) towards Camelot.

\---

When his horse had stumbled and begun to fall, Arthur had felt time stop. This was no hyperfocus, no dilation slowing perception of time in the face of impending disaster. He had actually frozen mid-fall for a handful of heartbeats, looking at the rock about to smash his skull, before time started again and he sailed far beyond his predicted landing place.

 _Sorcery_. He didn't know who, or where, or how, but he knew he'd have no chance at defending himself if the sorcerer kept his distance. Arthur pretended to have been knocked out in hopes of luring this opponent close--he would need a physical advantage.

Merlin's cries wrought a pang in his chest. There was no way to signal him, no way to tell him to run... no way to shield him if the sorcerer went after him next. He heard Merlin kneel beside him and felt his hands running through his hair. 

A minute passed, but no sorcerer came. The chill ground beneath him began soaking into his clothes, and all was silent save for the wrenching screams of his injured mare. Arthur cracked one eye to try to signal his charade to Merlin, but above him, Merlin's own eyes were closed. He appeared to be concentrating. He let out a breath, and then... then the mare's screaming stopped.

Arthur snapped his eye shut and worked hard to stifle a gasp. What the hell was... was _Merlin_... what was--

"Oh gods," Merlin said. He took his hand from Arthur's shoulder and got up. 

Arthur's mind whirled as he listened to Merlin trying to calm his own mount. If he just stayed still, if he just kept listening, if he just waited one more moment, surely he would begin to understand what was going on?

He was right. He did understand, just as soon as an invisible hand plucked him from the ground and levitated him into the front of Merlin's saddle. Merlin-- _his_ Merlin--had magic.

"You are not dying on me, you prat," Merlin puffed against his ear. Arthur leaned bonelessly against him, still waiting, though for what exactly he couldn't say. Could he turn and strike him--strike _Merlin_? He intended to return to Camelot, apparently, though to what end-- 

Merlin's whispers interrupted his thoughts. "I didn't save you from Nimueh's nonsense just to lose you in a patch of mud. You're _not_ allowed to die."

Arthur wondered whether Merlin could feel his heart jump and batter against his chest. He felt paralyzed. No--he _was_ paralyzed. Merlin had frozen him once more. As their mount leapt forward, Arthur realized Merlin was causing him to float just above the saddle so he wouldn't bounce and jostle with the horse's strides. The narrow press of Merlin's chest drove him forward, and Merlin's arm grasped gently at his waist.

\---

Merlin exploded into Gaius's front room with Arthur cradled in his arms. It had just gone night, and the heat from the little fire was welcome. Gaius startled from his seat at the table.

"He needs help," Merlin gasped, making a beeline for Gaius's bed. He lowered Arthur gently down.

"What happened?" Gaius was at Arthur's side in an instant.

"We were out riding, just for a lark, and he'd challenged me and my stupid fat horse to a race, but when he galloped off _his_ horse tripped in a gopher hole and both of them fell," Merlin babbled. "I don't understand why he won't wake up! I know he didn't land on anything--he just hit some mud--he doesn't _look_ hurt--oh gods, Gaius!" 

"And he's not ensorcelled?" Gaius asked as he peeled back Arthur's eyelids.

"No," Merlin shook his head. "He just _fell_ and now he won't get up--!" Merlin's breath hitched and tears spilled onto his cheeks. He grasped Arthur's limp hand in both of his own.

Gaius finished his probing examination and leaned back. He fixed Merlin with a flat, serious look. "I know exactly what is wrong with him," he said confidently.

"What? What is it? Is he going to--"

Merlin's questions were cut off by the _crack_ of Gaius's open palm against Arthur's face.

"AUGH!" Arthur shouted, lurching forward and clapping his hand to his cheek. "How dare you!"

"ARTHUR!" Merlin shouted. He dropped Arthur's hand like it was a branding iron. "You were--you were _faking_ being knocked out? I thought you were dying, you _utter clotpole_!" He scrubbed furiously at the wet tracks staining his face.

"Don't be such a girl," Arthur sighed. He shot a glare towards Gaius before turning to face Merlin. "I thought we'd been attacked by a sorcerer," he said meaningfully.

"Um. Oh," Merlin said. He stilled.

"Gaius," Arthur said, his eyes still locked with Merlin's, "I believe you were just going to find the king to tell him of my recovery. I imagine we caused quite a stir at the gates; he's likely on his way here right now."

"Of course, my lord." Gaius inclined his head. As he retreated, he gave Merlin's shoulder a firm grasp. Merlin was shocked to feel a buzzing tingle at the point of contact. _Good luck_ , it seemed to say.

Arthur shifted to lean his back against the head of the bed. He nodded curtly at a nearby chair and Merlin jumped to grab it, scraping its legs across the floor. Merlin sank into its seat and drew his limbs close in to his body.

"You're not going to punish him, are you?" Merlin asked softly as the patter of Gaius's footfalls faded away.

"You're worried about _Gaius_ right now?" Arthur snapped back.

"Well he did just hit you." Merlin started twisting at the threadbare cuffs of his shirt.

"But he's not the one who magicked the crown prince, is he?" Arthur's voice was like stone.

"You mean he's not the one who saved the crown prince's skull," Merlin retorted, his tone suddenly bitter.

"And not for the first time, apparently."

"No, not for the first time."

They fell silent. Arthur tipped his head back and let out a frustrated groan. He raked one hand through his hair and launched himself off the bed to begin stalking up and down the room. The effort of remaining limp and still for so long had rebounded into a simmering energy that made his hands twitch and his knees tremble. His brow lowered. He looked everywhere Merlin wasn't. Merlin remained still, but followed him with his eyes.

"Why did you come to Camelot in the first place?" Arthur asked, continuing to pace.

Merlin smiled a bit. "You've seen Ealdor."

"You love Ealdor," Arthur protested.

"I love the people of Ealdor. I love my mother. But there isn't anything _there_ for me. My mother sent me here so I could try to find my place in the world."

"But why not the... the druids? Why not some other kingdom?"

"Gaius was here. My mother trusts him."

"So Gaius... he knows?"

"Maybe?" Merlin's shoulders had climbed up around his ears.

Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at Merlin's awkward evasion. He stopped pacing and crossed his arms, taking a breath to loosen the tightness in his chest. He met Merlin's gaze once more. "And why do you stay?" he asked quietly. "Did you mean to become... this?" He gestured clumsily in the space between them.

"You mean the long-suffering manservant to a giant royal prat?" Merlin bit his lip, but his eyes twinkled--he couldn't help himself.

"Merlin!"

"You need me," Merlin said, suddenly serious. "That's why I stay. Your father drove magic away, but by that same token you're defenseless against it. Did you really think the Questing Beast just keeled over after having a nibble?"

Arthur shook his head violently. "But we kill sorcerers, Merlin! How can you be on our side?"

"Your father kills sorcerers," Merlin said firmly. "I have higher hopes for you." With this, he rose from his seat and crossed into Arthur's space. He cupped his hands close to his chest, and a whisper of words created a glowing blue orb that shone from the cracks between his fingers. He extended the orb towards Arthur, gesturing for him to take it. "It's you I serve, Arthur," he murmured. "It's you I protect, and whatever else is necessary for you to become the king I know you will one day be."

Arthur hesitated. "You killed my horse," he said feebly.

"I ended her suffering."

"You could kill me."

"Of course--I could put poison in your drink, or a dagger in your back, or--" Merlin shifted his eyes towards the ceiling in mocking consideration of Arthur's statement.

"But you wouldn't _do_ any of that," Arthur huffed.

"Exactly," Merlin agreed. He nudged the orb closer to Arthur's chest. "Take it," he said.

And Arthur did, though his fingers trembled and his pulse beat in his ears. The moment his hand closed over the orb, he felt as though he'd stepped from the shadows into the brilliant heat of summer. The warmth suffused his body head to toe. He breathed and felt rooted, down and down, into the bones of the castle and the ancient earth beneath them. The orb had melted into his skin and he now clasped Merlin's hands with his own; a gentle tingle radiated from the connection.

"Oh," was all he could say.

Merlin smiled and his eyes shone gold. He stepped back and reluctantly pulled his hands away. The light went out of his eyes and Arthur sagged, suddenly bereft.

"So what now?" Arthur asked softly. The crackle of Gaius's fire seemed to roar in the silence.

"Now you go back to your chambers, and I take your jacket so I can clean out that mud." Merlin's voice was too loud and his smile too sharp. His momentary poise had fled, and he listed to one side once again.

Arthur mirrored his posture, exaggerating Merlin's slump. "No," he said slowly. A grin spread over his face. He grasped Merlin's shoulders, pulling him close. "No," he said again. "First, I think, we get to do this."

And he brought his lips to Merlin's for a swift and searing kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in the Merlin fandom. This place is awesome!


End file.
